


What Sunday Mornings Were Made For

by dastiel_gal (rock_chick), rock_chick



Category: Supernatural RPF
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Rimming
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-04-21
Updated: 2010-04-21
Packaged: 2017-10-24 06:48:46
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 946
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/260327
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rock_chick/pseuds/dastiel_gal, https://archiveofourown.org/users/rock_chick/pseuds/rock_chick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jeff knows how to make Jensen scream the house down.</p>
            </blockquote>





	What Sunday Mornings Were Made For

**Author's Note:**

> Written for [](http://nilchance.livejournal.com/profile)[**nilchance**](http://nilchance.livejournal.com/) as part of the Five Acts kinky comment!fic meme hosted [here](http://toestastegood.livejournal.com/508068.html#cutid1) by [](http://toestastegood.livejournal.com/profile)[**toestastegood**](http://toestastegood.livejournal.com/). Mostly because it was her AU fic, [Where The Baptized Drown](http://nilchance.livejournal.com/253506.html), that got me into Jeff/Jensen in the first place.

Jeff ambushes Jensen on his way out of the bathroom, fresh from his shower, rubbing his hair with a towel and completely unable to a) see Jeff coming, or b) defend himself. Before he knows what the fuck is happening, Jeff swings him across the room and shoves him down face-first onto the bed, then presses up against his back _hard_... in more ways than one. A half-panicked squeak escapes Jensen as he hits the sheets, which is way hot, and Jeff growls his satisfaction into Jensen's damp ear. Jensen often tells him he's a toppy bastard, but he only dares say it when they're both fully dressed and outside of the bedroom.

"Stay right there, boy."

Although Jensen's facing away, Jeff can practically _hear_ him roll his eyes, which is completely unacceptable, so he rips the towel away from his hips and gives his pert backside a good swat. That earns him another squeak, and the attitude goes out of Jensen's shoulders all at once. That's more like it. Jeff nibbles at his ear, then starts at his neck, kisses and licks his way slowly down Jensen's spine.

"You know what I'm gonna do to you?"

Jensen has a damn good idea, as it pretty much always goes the same way when Jeff's in this mood, and his breath hitches in his throat. Jeff reaches the top of Jensen's butt, dips the tip of his tongue into the dimples on each side of his hips, and Jensen gasps and wriggles against the sheets.

Jeff pulls back for a moment to enjoy the view. Jensen, it has to be said, has just about the best-looking butt on the planet, like a Greek statue of a demigod. Jeff seems to spend most of his life these days wondering how the hell he got so lucky. There's a bold red handprint burning across one cheek, which is insanely hot, and Jeff stops wasting time and swoops back down, peppering kisses all over the smooth golden skin of Jensen's firm ass.

Jensen is breathy under him, trembling slightly. When Jeff takes it up a level, running the flat of his tongue up Jensen's crack - shallowly, not dipping inward yet - the tremble turns into a shiver, and he hears the first moan. He does it again, and gets a _"Please"_ this time.

"You clean yourself up right for me, sweetheart?" he asks. It's not even in question, really, Jensen always does - but it serves to emphasize who's boss here. Jensen nods furiously, panting with anticipation.

Jeff taps Jensen's hip; he knows that signal, and lifts up a little so Jeff can slip a pillow under him, tilt that fine ass up to give him a better angle. An expectant shudder runs through Jensen and his buttocks clench and release invitingly. Jeff purrs in appreciation, then gets himself comfortable, and takes a good grip on Jensen's butt with his strong hands.

He parts the cheeks to reveal Jensen's pucker, like a pink rosebud, clean and freshly soaped and just _waiting_ for his attentions. Jensen twitches nervously under him, and he takes a moment to watch the way the ring muscles move, blows gently over them to make them work again, then gives in to the unbearable temptation and dives in fast, licking wetly all the way from the perineum to the top of his ass.

Jensen yowls and bucks under him, only held in place by Jeff's weight on his legs and those big unyielding hands. "Jeff, Christ..."

Jeff laughs wickedly, deep and promising, then mentally cracks his knuckles and gets down to the serious business of making Jensen lose his ever-loving mind. He starts off with a few more of those long, wet licks, then changes to quick flicks over the tight hole until Jensen's whole body is shaking continuously. The soft, breathy, needy noises coming out of his boy are extraordinary, such a turn-on that Jeff's starting to shake himself. He's so hard he could hammer nails with it, and from the way Jensen's shifting against the pillow, it looks like he is, too.

" _More_ , Jeff... fuck, _please_...", gasped out in a desperate whine. Jensen's voice is breaking, and Jeff knows it won't be long before he's subvocal.

"More?" he teases, nibbling and sucking at the wet skin, licking him open, twisting his tongue tantalisingly just inside the opening until Jensen almost screams with frustrated desire, writhing against his hands. "More?"

Jensen's beyond speech now, can't form the words to answer him, but he forces out a desperate, demanding snarl, and Jeff speaks fucked-out-Jensen just fine. He's nothing if not obliging, though, and finally, _finally, thank fuck_ , pushes in with his tongue, slides it into Jensen thick and firm, tongue-fucks him until he's bucking helplessly against the pillows and sobbing with need. Jeff keeps going until he can feel Jensen teetering on the brink, then slips his hand around and under, takes a firm hold of Jensen's cock and jacks him straight over the edge.

Jensen damn near levitates off the bed as he comes hard and fast, yelling out his ecstasy so loud they can probably hear him three blocks away, and collapses back onto the sheets, boneless and blissed out. Jeff pushes himself up the bed, snuggles up against Jensen's back, wraps him in his arms while he floats back to earth.

"You're an evil son of a bitch when you want to be," Jensen mutters, when he can actually speak again.

Jeff rumbles out a laugh, so deep it's practically subsonic. "I do my best, sweetheart."

This is how it starts, but they've got a long, lazy Sunday morning to fill, and Jeff's on a roll.


End file.
